The Girl, the Gypsy & the Gargoyle by Darcy Pattison

Author:Darcy Pattison [Pattison, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: juvenile fiction, fantasy, preteen, children's fiction, adventure
Publisher: Mims House
Published: 2014-08-26T04:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

IN WHICH THE GIRL AND THE GYPSY SPEAK OF SWEET BERRIES AND DREAMS OF TREASURE

The rest of the morning’s travel was speedy. Laurel had heard travelers speak of a “road coming up to meet you,” but now she understood the phrase. The path here was easy and the world was full of joy. Birds flitted and sang sweetly; squirrels scampered along and chattered and scolded them; the streambed sang a lilting melody. Everything was right with their world. Even Laurel’s boots were drying out.

As they traveled, Laurel kept watch for the vine with white flowers, but saw nothing. From the description, it should be easy to recognize when they saw it.

By mid-morning, Laurel needed another rest.

Jassy agreed, but warned, “Only a few minutes.” He pulled off his pack and lay down in a clump of red clover and closed his eyes.

Even the gargoyle bird rested; perched in a low bush, he turned his head to rest on his back and closed his eyes.

Laurel lay flat along the stream again and drank, and then trailed her hand in the ripples until the cold made her fingers tingle. Sitting up, she spied a white flower. With a beating heart, she shoved aside branches from a bush for a closer look. Maybe it was the white star flower that would heal Father and Antonio. But it was just wild strawberries. She picked a handful and brought them to Jassy.

“Here, lazy. Strawberries.” Laurel dropped some on his chest and popped one into her own mouth.

Suddenly, a scalding fire burned all down her throat. “Ahh!” She spit out the berry.

Jassy started up, the berries tumbling into the grass. “What?”

She stuck out her tongue and waved her hand at it.

He picked up a berry from his lap. “You didn’t eat this, did you?”

Stumbling up, Laurel staggered to the stream and threw her head into the water and sucked, swishing the cool water around in her mouth, and then spitting it out again. Still it burned. Throwing her head back, she gargled water, and then spat again. Still it burned. She drank and spat again, and yet again, before the fire dimmed to something she could stand. Tears ran down her cheeks and she was sweating.

Jassy knelt beside her, hands by his side, helpless.

“What was it?” she managed to gasp.

“A fire berry.”

She stared at the berry in his hand and it wavered, changing shape from a strawberry to a smaller, burgundy fire berry; and then it changed back to a strawberry, so succulent and lovely that she almost wanted to bite it again.

Her voice trembled, “It changes. I can’t see it right. Sometimes, it’s a fire berry. Sometimes, a strawberry.” She sat back on her heels, blinked, and then rubbed her eyes, and when the images kept shifting–fire berry, strawberry, fire berry, strawberry–she clapped her hands over her eyes and wailed, “What’s happening to me?”

Jassy’s voice was distant, “The Troll’s Eye. Bad will be good.”

She dropped her hands and stared at him with wide eyes, “I can’t trust my vision at all?”

Jassy plucked a flower from the grass.

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